The Book of the Rose

by Charles G.D. Roberts


 

HOW LITTLE I KNEW


 

How little I knew, when I first saw you,
And your eyes for a moment questioned mine,
It amounted to this,—that the dawn and the dew,
The midnight's dark, and the midnoon's shine,
The awe of the silent, soaring peak,
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The harebell's blue, and the cloud in the blue,
And all the beauty I sing and seek,
Would come to mean—just you!

Yet I might have known; for that one deep look
Which you gave me from under your hat's low brim

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Months afterward in my memory shook
And made my pulses swim.
It will burn in my heart the long years through;
And when this life of the flesh is done
I will open my heart and show it to you
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In the world beyond the sun.